


and be with me, for evermore

by enbycupcake



Series: fairy tale aus [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Illustrated, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 19:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11469927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbycupcake/pseuds/enbycupcake
Summary: Padmé just needed a place to stay for the night; she didn't expect to fall into love.A Beauty and the Beast retelling.





	and be with me, for evermore

**Author's Note:**

> It's not explicit in the text, but Anakin was cursed for using dark magic/the dark side of the Force. He was cursed to be marked as a Sith and to be in pain until someone loved him and told him. Anakin remains in a fixed version of his suit at the end of the fic. Obi-Wan never vocalized his feelings; he didn't know about the way to lift the curse.

Once upon a time, there was a little town of Naboo. It was a quiet town, full of easy going people. Surrounding them was water all around; Naboo prided itself on being the most beautiful town in the Republic because of it.

Padmé Naberrie loved her little town, but she wanted to leave to join the Senate. Naboo was too small for her; she’d already been elected Queen for two terms, and outside that she could do little for Naboo politics. Monarchs would listen to her advice, of course, but it was merely that: advice.

So Padmé wrapped herself up in a cloak and kissed her friends goodbye. Sabé tucked a rose into her hair for safe passage, and off Padmé went. The little town of Naboo faded quickly behind her boat. Soon, she was across the waters. Whatever territory she had entered, it was much colder than Naboo. Snow covered the forest floor. Pulling her cloak closer, Padmé set out to find shelter for the night.

The first place she came upon was a castle, towering high into the sky. Padmé knocked on the door. No one answered. Trying again, Padmé knocked harder.

Still no one responded.

Padmé turned away to find somewhere else to stay. On nearing the exit of the castle grounds, she spotted a rose garden. Touching the flower Sabé had given her, Padmé changed direction. Roses were her favorite. A smile grew on her face as she took in the vast amount of reds and yellows. Padmé didn’t think she had ever seen so many, Naboo filled more with rominarias.

She leaned in to smell one, curling her hand around its petals. Out of almost thin air a hand grabbed her and twirled her around. Her attacker demanded to know what she thought she was doing. Unafraid, Padmé answered she was enjoying the flowers on her way out. Smelling roses wasn’t a crime.

Her statement got a startled laugh from her attacker. He let her go and instead offered his arm for her, inviting her in for dinner. Wary, but needing shelter, Padmé looped her own arm through his. The inside of the castle took her breath away; it seemed bigger on the inside than the outside, elegant lines and furniture much more square than the curved lines of Theed Palace. Padmé stood in awe for a moment at all the space.

Dinner was an excellent affair with more than plenty for two. Padmé and her host laughed over lighthearted small talk, and once the fire dulled, she was led to a lavish bedroom on the second floor. Padmé smiled as her host bowed to her at the door and kissed her hand. His parting words were to tell her that she had to be on her way as soon as dawn broke.

Padmé settled in for the night, placing Sabé’s rose on her nightstand. The bed was luxuriously soft; she fell asleep in mere moments.

When she woke, Padmé smiled at the memory of last night. She redid her hair in the beginnings of light from the window. Dawn was slowly slipping away, and Padmé ran her fingers along the walls of her room. Why must she leave so early? Why couldn’t she stay longer, enjoy more conversation?

Padmé waited in her room until it was well past dawn. Curious, she walked down her hall and then back towards the dining room. The sounds of talking drew her in, and Padmé pushed open the door. Immediately the room turned to silence. Her host from last night looked disappointed. That who stood beside him with no face and Sith horns oozed anger, and Padmé struggled to not stumble back in surprise.

Foreboding black stood easily more than a head taller than her, a sleek cloak a stark contrast to the protruding mess of broken metals and wires. Little sparks flew dangerously from what were elbows and fingertips. In the silence of the room, harsh fabricated breathing registered in Padmé’s ears.

Gasping, Padmé stepped forward. She was met with a temper matching those from fabled volcanoes in her youth; accusations of thievery like last night were flung until her host rested his hand on a broken arm. The storm faded just as quickly as it had begun. Raising her head, Padmé demanded an apology. How dare a host treat a guest this way?

Embarrassed shame led way to breakfast, Padmé seated at the head of the table while her new host fretted over her pleasure. Obi-Wan, her host from last night, alternated between fascinated watching of his master and talking with her once again. Apologies for not warning her of his master were waved away after Padmé raised a brow. Anakin was proving to be a marvelous host; Obi-Wan shouldn’t have worried, Padmé told him as Anakin tripped over himself to refill her glass.

Breakfast led way into a tour into a castle, and then it was time for lunch. She still hadn’t seen the library, so Padmé looped her arm through Obi-Wan’s and followed Anakin. The three of them tucked into the little nook of the room, the rich voice of Obi-Wan wrapping around them as he read a long forgotten treatise.

Soon the day melted into another and more still; Sabé’s rose had to be laid to rest in the garden. Yet Padmé stayed. Anakin was awkwardly charming, and he had started to be less shy around her. Obi-Wan almost seemed to shed some of his years, his smiles even more flirty now and his touches on Anakin more lingering. Every dinner they stopped whatever individual activities they were doing to dine together. Padmé greatly enjoyed their company.

She was reading about the great negotiations of the beginning Republic when the first hint of emptiness hit her. The grounds of the castle were no longer buried in snow, and Padmé watched as the breeze gently blew the grass blades. A full season had passed. And here she was, only a step closer to being in the Senate.

Padmé brought it up over dinner, a beautiful meal painstakingly made by Anakin. She grabbed his wrist – she always had to be careful not to get shocked from his hands – and slid her fingers through Obi-Wan’s. Smiling, she started from the beginning, from her home in Naboo. The Naberries wanted the best for her. Padmé was placed in the top class, and she just kept growing until she reached the top: monarchy. And by the gods, she had loved the rush it had given her. The politics, the law, the debate.

Now, she wanted to pursue it again in the Senate. A voice for Naboo in the Republic sphere, not just in her town. The atmosphere in the dining room got sadder, but Anakin’s metal stayed at his happy temperature and Obi-Wan didn’t go quiet like he does when he’s upset. They only asked what they can do to help her.

Obi-Wan sat and poured over cultural texts with her; the library here was larger and more inclusive than the one in Theed. Anakin stood behind her and critiqued her on weak spots the corrupt could use against her. By the time Padmé deemed herself ready again, her cloak pulled tight around her, she was loathe to leave.

But she couldn’t be happy without at least attempting a seat in the Senate.

Her hand was pulled up for one more kiss by Obi-Wan – until next time, he murmured. Anakin’s broken fingers cradled a wooden necklace which he dropped from up high into her hand – he couldn’t shock her through this, and hopefully she’d remember him when she sees it. Shaking her head, Padmé tied the necklace around her neck. How could she forget him?

The journey was long. Finding shelter every night grew tiresome, and Padmé was fatigued upon finding Coruscant. But she made it.

Padmé settled in quickly. Bail Antilles and Mon Mothma became fast allies, and she apprenticed under numerous senators. Her workload was often enough to drive her straight to bed once she finished. Before she even knew it, another season had passed. It was time to return to Naboo for election.

Sabé kissed Padmé the most enthusiastically once she returned, another rose waiting for to be tucked behind her ear. Laughing, Padmé held her close and let the rest of her friends shower her in affection. They all curled into Dormé big bed to catch up and begin planning her campaign.

Naboo’s election was won by a landslide. Padmé felt her pride blossom in her chest, and her heart pained when she curled her fingers around Anakin’s necklace. If only he and Obi-Wan could have been here with her.

The castle grounds were once again coated in snow when Padmé returned. Her cloak was wrapped around her, a familiar weight, as she pushed open the castle doors. She wandered through the halls, re-familiarizing herself. At this hour, Obi-Wan was tending the back garden while Anakin was likely napping.

A swell of affection surged through her when the book in Obi-Wan’s hands dropped at the sight of her, sparks freely shooting from Anakin’s various wires. He ran to her to wrap her in his arms, only just stopping himself. Padmé smiled at him and grabbed his wrist. Obi-Wan walked up beside Anakin, his hand easily sliding to Padmé’s waist.

Dinner was held by a raging fire. Anakin vibrated the whole time; Obi-Wan kept shooting her extremely pleased looks over their conversation. Padmé missed them terribly. When the fire dimmed, its flames licking pathetically, she stood from her chair. She used the surprise – they tended to never get up before the fire truly died – to grip Obi-Wan’s hand tight and catch Anakin off guard to press her lips to his mask.

She loved him. She loved them both.

Something changed in the room. Padmé felt breathless from it, and Anakin radiated fear. His usual sparks exploded; his breathing quieted. Sith horns disappeared into thin air. A face was now visible under the mask. There was no more shattered metal, no more open wires. Where there were jagged edges there were sleek lines.

Anakin’s living apparatus looked more like a suit instead of a broken down prison.

Crying, Anakin gripped Padmé tight. He thought he’d never get to hold anyone again. Obi-Wan quickly wrapped himself around Anakin, and Padmé cradled Anakin’s head to her. The three of them stayed that way until he calmed down, long past the time the last ember in the fireplace died.

Life changed both drastically and not at all. Anakin took every opportunity to touch Padmé and Obi-Wan. He insisted on cooking every meal, and he ventured out onto the castle grounds. But still Anakin announced himself when he entered a room. He still curled himself around her the same cautious way until Obi-Wan or herself rearranged him.

By the time Sabé’s rose died, the signal that she had to go to the Senate, Padmé didn’t want to leave. She’d carved a home here in the castle. Laughing, Anakin pressed his forehead to hers as Obi-Wan wrapped himself behind Anakin to hug the both of them. Maybe, this time, they could go with her?


End file.
